


The Boy Who Stole Christmas

by ElfyDwarf



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: A LOT OF CHEESE, Elves, GGE16, M/M, Swearing, Wall Sex, a lot of christmas cheese, almost caught sex, and not the kind on a platter with chutney, christmas AU of a sort, dislike of christmas songs, elf costumes, grinchy mickey, jolly ian, praise of body parts like legs and stuff, seriously irritating tights
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 21:07:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9025096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfyDwarf/pseuds/ElfyDwarf
Summary: This is for the GGE '16 and the prompt I took was number 2, and kept the title: "The Boy Who Stole Christmas - In which, Ian and Mickey are working as Mall Elves. Ian’s he’s normal bubbly self and Mickey’s the self-proclaimed grinch. May or may not be AU. Maybe the sexual tensions getting to them and they do the deed in the mall? Yay after mall hours sex and almost getting caught! Extra kudos if they are wearing really, REALLY, annoying striped tights."Happy Christmas!





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [arh581958](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arh581958/gifts).



> To the recipient: Here's my gift :} I am extremely sorry but it's not complete, though I have enough to give you something to start off with, I hope. Christmas is not a good time of year for me and my family and though I did try to focus on this as much as I could, I simply got taken off my feet and emotions became too much. I will finish this as soon as I can and I hope to have it a lot bigger by the end too, with all the things you asked for :} I am not one to do this normally, give over something unfinished, but I didn't want to leave you empty-handed either. Know that I WILL finish this, you've only gotta wait a while longer. I chose this one because of the theme and time of year :D Happy Christmas to you!
> 
> Happy Christmas and blessings to all who read, and know, better is coming :D you know what I'm capable of and given the little prompty bits, well... ;D I've edited as much as I could, but knowing me, there's errors lol

 

December 14th

 

_It's the most wonderful time of the year!_

“Really fuckin' _isn't_ ,” Mickey growled as he hiked himself up on a crate for his lunch break, shifting and wriggling with a scowl like no other in the chilly storage corridor-come-hall only mall staff could go into, the door shutting heavily to block out that ear-abusing music for a sweet twenty minutes of respite during his eight hour shift in 'Lapland'.The striped tights really did nothing but hinder and fuck his mood into hell and right now, they were catching on the plastic so he could barely move and his forsaken hat kept catching on the breeze-block wall with every exaggerated swing of his body. All this wriggling was going to upend him in a second and he'd drop his much wanted box of lunch on the floor and maybe drop kick one of his stupidly cheerful co-workers for it because, if not for their collective input in a meeting he was not privy to, he'd not have to wear the darn things in the first place. Hell, the whole outfit was awful but he could complain and bitch all the liked; it was the mandatory uniform at the end of the day. It wasn't even his job but his sister's, but an unfortunate prank involving spray snow and the tiles in the kitchen had left her with a broken wrist and bruised back so Mickey felt inclined to step in for her – she had guilted him into doing it or so he'd say, but he felt guilty enough and she loved her stupid job at this time of year and he knew she'd be distraught to lose it. Just because Mandy loved it didn't mean he had to, and he _really_ didn't, having hated the uniform the second he'd seen it, though he was mildly pleased it was his own and not Mandy's, to the fourth reprimand off 'Santa' for his grinch-like behaviour and scowls when he thought nobody was looking at him. Children. Children had been watching him. If Mandy thought her pout and sad wording could guilt him, she had yet to meet a four year old with a quivering lip asking mommy why the elf is so angry working for Santa or if Christmas was going to leave because the elf is sad while he's wrapping presents. He deserved that reprimand, but not the third because that kid was a spoilt fuck who didn't trip on Mickey's runaway ribbon at all.

Mickey gave up trying to get even half of his backside on the crate, one leg up off the ground with the other only holding him up on his toes; the boots weren't great for grip at all, black ankle things that curled at the toe like ribbon which had had him walking like a cat in socks for the first day or two. He felt like a complete fool every morning he put everything on in the locker room, his scowl and evil walk the only thing keeping any other mall workers from commenting or laughing his way. Elf he may be, but he'd snap their elbows and use his gift wrapping expertise to stick them to the fucking wall. In the mall, Mickey was the epitome of 'Gift Elf', the one who wrapped up fake boxes all day, or handed real gifts to children on a round of the mall with another elf in the evening, smiling and skipping and trying not to break character to swear his face off. He got to wear a better get-up than some which was a long, dark green Santa-style coat with a huge, gold-buckled black belt around his middle and jingle-bell buttons down his front. His hat matched, thick white fur and bobble to boot on green, and his gloves were white, something he found hard to keep pristine enough to make Mickey Mouse look like a slacker but they kept his tattoo's covered. He hated it, but it was probably one of the better ones, or so he thought - he still had to wear red and green striped tights and it was only because his coat was fixed in place that he didn't flash his bulge at unsuspecting families; it was a close curtain type cut, but close enough, swooping open to either side from _just below_ his groin and hanging to the backs of his knees in a tail that he kept forgetting to lift when he sat down. He was happy he was the elf he was, from his pointy ears to his curly toes, because he got to sit and wrap things, only interact with smiles and skippy moves for the kids and waves as they left. The rest all got catcalled, looked at like they were ridiculous in their colours with bells that hung off of every bit they could. The girls had pouf skirts and velvet gowns that were far too revealing for someone working with children and they seemed to know it, always adjusting and scowling at the things and the regular guys had to wear shorts, braces and garish red shirts and bow-ties that looked tight enough to choke. The only other 'elf' who _was_ lucky with his kit was the toy maker who brought boxes to Mickey. He was nicknamed Jolly, and he was jolly _as fuck_ and had flame coloured hair and though they interacted for show a lot, they hadn't said more than greetings and nods in the corridors. Out of the entire 'elf' force, Mickey, Jolly and Sara or Garth, Santa's 'head elf' depending on shift rotation, there really wasn't many others with 'jobs' that required a different looking flourish of reds and greens. Mickey knew he should consider himself lucky that his sister had busted her ass enough to get to a good position in the team, but he didn't because he fucking hated it all. Wouldn't take this job even if it meant getting the gas or water shut off, he'd deal, wrap up more, bring in a trash can and burn shit, melt snow, whatever. But letting his sister down was not something he could do so he'd suck it up and get it done.

Chewing his cheek with a heavy sigh and tired eye-roll, he picked out his packed turkey ranch sandwich and bit so angrily that the filling burst out of the other end and went down the shin of his supporting leg, all over the top of the boot and down to the cement floor with a splat that sounded like a harsh slap across the face. Mickey stared at it like it was the most surreal thing he'd witnessed in his life, holding the bread of his sandwich in his hands delicately. And then he snapped, throwing the bread at the opposite wall with a curse that echoed down the corridor while he jumped off the crate and kicked the innards of his sandwich around with unhinged rage.

“ _Fuck_ today!” he growled, throwing the rest of his lunch in the nearest bin. The sandwich was the best damn part and he'd been thinking of it since he'd gotten it at the little sandwich shop two blocks over, Beck's, the one that always had a queue at lunch time, so long that you'd never get a sniff at the food within your hour break. You had to go in early and today, Mickey had managed to get out of the house twenty minutes early because the clock on the kitchen wall had stopped and in his sleepy daze, he'd shit himself thinking he was late and had run. At the L, he'd checked the clock on the board of train arrivals and had sworn upon seeing it twenty minutes earlier than he thought. So, he'd popped into the sandwich shop and had thankfully only had to wait behind three others. Now, that dreamy sandwich was a smashed state all over the stock and staff corridor and Mickey was angry to say the least.

The door burst open and in strode Jolly-Jolly himself, unsuspecting and pink-cheeked from the cold. He was half way through yanking off his scarf when he stopped, finally noticing he wasn't as alone as he thought, taking in the sight of a very pissed off fellow elf with utter carnage around him. Jolly took out his earbuds and narrowed one eye, putting out snow-licked fingers steadily before he chanced asking, “Did-did those fucks from Taylor's get you, too?”

Mickey scowled as he took in the wind swept push to that intense red hair and the damp patches all over Jolly's shoulders and knees where snow had melted, eyeing denim-wrapped legs appreciatively. He looked a picture, one Mickey hadn't really seen before because usually he only saw the guy in passing and always in his uniform. It was a nice picture, chin out, eyes as bright as his hair with a cold-blasted tinge to his nose. Pretending he was merely sizing him up before the guy caught on to his appraisal, Mickey registered the tone in his voice; it had been concerned and suspicious and a little peeved, but mostly, deep and slow and not at all like the high tones the guy used out in Lapland.

“The fuck you mean?” Mickey asked, slowly now that he was piecing things together. Had this kid had his lunch trashed by some brown-nosers up on the fourth floor? Sure seemed like it. And for what? For being dressed like an elf? Mickey didn't know the kid at all, but he really didn't like the idea of some assholes humiliating him like that because as far as Mickey had noticed, he was kind and gentle and real good with kids, natural with them and kids are very good judges of character even if they aren't aware they're doing it. Dickheads that could fake that for the sake of a job just didn't behave the same, Mickey knew, he sort of fit the bill and a fair few regular elves sure fit it perfectly. Brad in the penguin section was a perfect example, tense with faux smiles and cheer that near every kid reacted to with suspicious stares and stand-offish body language. The parents looked like they were facing off with some pretentious kid they'd rather punch in the neck than thank for directions to the North Pole. Mickey didn't like Brad. He wanted to belt him with a giant candy cane because it wasn't difficult to get excited for the sake of a kid who was innocently full of imagination and wonder and firmly believed in the magic of Christmas and a dude in a red suit with a flying sleigh. These kids Mickey only saw for a about five minutes in his 'workshop' where he handed over gifts, so he could turn it on easily. Jolly, on the other hand, was some kind of Will Farrell imposter with his exuberant cheer and spirit – Christ did it grind on Mickey's every nerve, the ones he didn't like coming to life as his inner Grinch did _not_ want to like this season at all. It was too materialistic and lonely, but Jolly made him want to think differently when he came to 'visit'.

Jolly scowled in an unsure way, as though he was deeply suspicious of Mickey now but also insanely curious, trying to go for indifference. These faces were new because usually Mickey only ever saw a greeting smile or the giant fucking sunbeam he wore in the mall every damn second he was out there. “Nothing,” Jolly said slowly, starting to smile as he picked up his feet to keep going towards the changing room. “Here!” he chuckled as he strode passed like some kind of BFG, tossing Mickey something before he dodged around stock and tall stacks of boxes, going right and out of sight and ear shot, the heavy fire doors down that way clanging shut and blocking out his whistling rendition of Jingle Bells.  
  
Mickey frowned down at his hand, having automatically caught whatever it was, and saw a small roll wrapped in the tell-tale paper from Beck's. It had a little stamp of TR on it like Mickey's had had before he'd torn it open and then destroyed the thing. He puffed his mouth and bobbed his head because as curious as it was, and as much as he thought it very forward of this guy to give over something like Mickey was a charity case, he wasn't about to turn down a bite to eat from someone who genuinely seemed big-hearted and kind like that. Awkward as Mickey felt as he unwrapped it, he soon brushed it away with groan of satisfaction as he ate carefully and began to clean up his mess, kind of touched by Jolly's kindness by the time the mess was gone, roll too, and Mickey found himself heading towards the loading bays to smoke the cigarette he'd hidden in his hat with the lighter in the cuff of fluff.

 

* * *

 

Mickey was curling ribbons while he hummed along to Fairytale In New York, one of very few Christmas songs he actually liked. It was coming to the part where he'd normally yell along to the cursing but he was extremely aware that he was bang in the middle of his 'workshop' with children pouring in from the open doors that lead on from the previous zone. As if this song was actually playing, but playing it was and Mickey was relatively pleased by it. He had his back to his wandering audience as he was supposed to do, playing along with the whole elf charade by swinging his head side to side and bouncing his legs to get the bells on his jacket to tingle with the jolts, as though he was thoroughly enjoying his job and the epitome of jovial. A small bell chimed and Mickey routinely placed down his ribbons and put them back in the basket, pushing it to the back of his desk, plastering on a sunny smile as he stood and turned to face whoever might be around, pressing a little button on the table to set Jingle Bell Rock off on repeat like he did whenever this time came around. _So_ many children were there. There came a solid wrapping on the door of his workshop and Mickey tilted his head in wonder, eyeing the children as they slowed their wandering to watch.

“Knock knock, Plumkin!” Mickey nearly scowled because like hell did he hate the stupid name he'd been given but it wasn't the worst, not really. Jolly's head appeared with his mega watt grin from behind the set that was the wall of Mickey's workshop, the door very real and heavy and being held open against the giant's chest. The kids in the vicinity all stopped dead to pay attention to what was going on with curiosity and delight smashed all over them, their parents sporting warm smiles at the sight. Mickey mocked utter surprise and clapped his gloved hands, bustling to the door to throw it wide open for Jolly to come in, the tall fucker looking ridiculously hot in his outfit. Even if he did look as idiotic as Mickey felt, he would be a blind liar if he couldn't admit to himself how damn hot this guy was. Jolly had the same curled shoes and striped tights but he was lucky enough to have below-the-knee green pants with jingle bells on the pockets and bottom edges, a long sleeveless workers waistcoat that was held to him by a toy-makers pocketed belt full of instruments and one little teddy bear. His shirt was long-sleeved, _tight_ , and dark red and he had a quintessential elf hat that curled to one side, a bell on the end. He looked the part and played it very well, grinning and behaving like some smug as hell elf to the kids with stupid red splodges on his cheeks. At least Mickey didn't have to don fake rosy cheeks.

“Jolly!” Mickey cheered, bending and putting his hand to his mouth in over-the-top glee as he looked at the children getting excited around the edge of the area, behind the ribbon for safety reasons. They really didn't need another one hit by a giant candy cane or Mickey's stacks of boxes or his darn tree again. “What are you doin' here? You've come an _awful_ long way. He _has_ , hasn't he?” Mickey asked the kids to which they all giggled and cheered a 'he has Plumkin, he has!'.

“Oh, silly Plumkin!” Jolly tsked and tapped his curled shoe, shaking his head dramatically to set the bell on his hat off. Mickey pouted and turned to him with his false confusion, nearly snorting at how well Jolly was doing this, even down to the glint in his fucking eye when he caught Mickey's. He had lovely doe eyes. “When the toy maker comes and knocks on your door, do you know what that means, children?” the guy beamed at the kids and stepped through the door, pulling a small sleigh behind him as he came through, laughing as he said, “I have gifts from Santa!”

The kids all screamed and clapped and jumped up and down excitedly as Mickey put both hands to his mouth, fingers steeped for effect as he over widened his eyes in surprise and caught the eye of a little girl who looked entirely entranced by all of this. “ _Look_ at this! Well, it _is_ important for Santa's gifts to be wrapped nicely, don't you think little miss?” he asked the child who was stunned into nodding enthusiastically. Mickey puffed out his chest and thumb-pointed at himself, “And I _am_ the gift wrapper, the bestest one in the North Pole in fact! Do you think I can wrap all of these in time?” he mock gasped in panic and set the kids off with shouts of 'of course Plumkin!' and 'you're the bestest! The bestest!' so he beamed at them all and turned to Jolly who was watching him with a gentle smile, not a normal part of this charade because he should be grinning at the kids. Mickey barely held the little frown _of what are you doing?_ And found his eye caught for a second on that mouth because _Christ_ , those lips were attention grabbing.

“I think you're the _greatest_ present wrapper in the whole wide world, Plumkin,” Jolly said and winked with the eye not visible to the surrounding children and parents. Mickey nearly broke character to frown with real confusion. Jolly took the moment away with a loud inhale of wonder and pushed out even more excitement than the children had, hopping rapidly from foot to foot, tapping his hands on Mickey's arms like he couldn't contain himself. “Say, do you maybe have some already wrapped, Plumkin, the bestest gift elf in all the land?”

Mickey nearly burst out laughing because that bit always got him and every time it caught him off guard, Jolly somehow managing to make it different and so damn real that Mickey nearly got swept away in his spirit. Placing his finger to his chin and humming thoughtfully as Jolly bounced on his toes from ill contained glee, looking from Mickey to the kids rapidly, Mickey eyed a corner of his set that was hidden by thick, life-like pines covered in popcorn string and baubles and glittering gold lights.   
  
“Maybe...” he began, breaking off to really look over there hard and then back at the children who were holding their breaths because they were wishing but didn't know if they would get something here as they were just about half-way through. These little gifts were a token thing to keep them entertained and full of wonder while they made their way through the rest of the North Pole to find Santa who had a hoard of selected gifts the kids would know Jolly had made and Plumkin had wrapped. The parents got to choose from a list of toys when they booked the tickets so they were named and all wrapped differently to the next, something Mickey had taken to doing to prevent confusion or to stop any children from thinking they weren't special enough to get a slightly different shade of paper and ribbons. It wasn't a big deal, just how he thought.

“Are...are those what I think they are?” Jolly asked with a squeak at the end and Mickey had to put his hands to his mouth again to stop the laugh but he kept the idiotic grin. The kids were craning their necks.

“Well, I know Comet and Dancer took the gifts I did this mornin' but...” Mickey squinted and gasped, turning to Jolly with a bounce of his own, “Jolly! Jolly! They left some behind. Oh, what am I to do with them?” he pretended to be worried and the children all frowned along as hoped, their parents playing along to Mickey with hushes of dramatic 'oh no' or 'what will he do?'.

“Maybe you could uhm,” Jolly pouted and did a stupid lopsided curl of his mouth with a shrug, “Give them a home?”

“Oh! Yes!” Mickey cheered and then stopped, scratching his head for dramatics, “Where will they go to though? Santa already has his sleigh packed-”

“Plumkin! Plumkin!” Jolly started his fucking jumping again and Mickey grinned along, though Jolly needn't know it was genuine. This guy, honestly. In an overly loud whisper, Jolly looked at the children as he leaned in close to say, “These children look like they could give them a nice home? They are all on the good list, after all!”

“They _are_?”

“Of course they are, silly Plumkin! Only the bestest children can see us, remember?” Jolly giggled and Mickey nodded along like he'd stupidly forgotten, the children all yelling with agreement that they were good and could look after these gifts. Mickey clapped his hands and disappeared behind the trees, pushing an over-sized wooden box out with a huff.

“Jolly? You'll have to help me give them all out!” Mickey wiped non-existent sweat away from his brow and gathered up some little boxes in his arms. He handed them to an eagerly helpful Jolly who then proceeded to approach the ribbon line and coax the now shy children forward.

“I hope you look after these for us because they are _so very_ special,” Jolly said sweetly as his crouched his imposing height down and placed the little boxes in the tiny hands of children he called over individually with a wave as Mickey did the same, looking for the 'my name is...' stickers the kids had forgotten were on them like every other kid had done. The boxes contained hand-crafted baubles with their names handwritten on with something inside from a selected list the parents chose, like tiny pink unicorns or a micro-truck. Aside from making 'gifts', which was pretty much knocking about with wood and stock toys and piling up the real presents in plain boxing, Jolly actually sat and made these little baubles in his workshop near the entrance of the wonderland like Mickey actively sat and wrapped the gifts Jolly brought for the kids coming the next day before moving on to empty boxes when he'd run out of real gifts. Not everything they did was for show, they really did work in fucking Lapland.

Once every kid was cradling their tiny little gift to their chest like it was made of stars, Plumkin and Jolly stood back and put an arm around each others shoulders and looked on with pride, genuine of course because those little faces were so stunned by innocence and their parents looked so thankful for the display.

“I think Santa is goin' to wonder where you all are!” Mickey suddenly jumped and looked at the cuckoo clock on the wall like the many pictures meant something. Jolly gasped and nodded.

“Yes, _he is_! Oh, thank you all so much for being so kind and for taking care of those little gifts for us. It was the bestest gift ever, to see you all again at Plumkin's workshop!” Jolly said with a hand over his heart and a bright smile for the kids as their parents took the prompt to carry on exploring with the kids now thoroughly stoked to keep on going.

“Yes! Thank you for coming to visit me, you've made my day!” Mickey and Jolly waved them away with big shakes of their hands and set to bustling around Plumkin's workshop to stack the new gifts up, ready for Mickey's expertise and pretty papers while their audience thinned and eventually disappeared with hushed happiness. As soon as the separating doors closed either end, Mickey dropped his false smiles and cracked his back.

“How many more times we gotta do this today?” he grouched, sitting in his chair heavily with a huff and turning off the music with a smack on the button, the steady drone of the stereo system throughout the mall trickling in to cover the silence. _It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...everywhere you go!_ “If I hear this again, I'm goin' to 'fall' down the stairs.”

Jolly snorted and leaned against the worktable with his backside and crossed his ankles, his voice teasing and soft compared to what he'd just unleashed with Mickey on all the kids, “It's not that bad, c'mon.”

Mickey scoffed and pinched his nose a bit to ready himself for all the wrapping for tomorrow's kids. The pile was really quite tall but this was the third hoard, possibly the last one he'd need to do today depending on how booked up they were. He didn't mind wrapping, he found it easy and a quick way to pass time and took some pride in what he did. “This the last load or not, Jolly?” Mickey asked as he looked around tiredly for the paper cutter he'd popped away, wondering which colour to start with.

Jolly shook his head with a tiny smile and raised his red brows as he chuckled, “Yes, _Scrooge_. Tomorrow is quieter than they thought so it'll be slightly easier kid-wise. But, because of that, we might get put on mall duty in the evening to compensate because neither of us fuck about and slack off like the others. We got one more round of families today, I think?”

Mickey had to hum at that to stave off the swears and hefted up his basket of ribbon, spying a covered pile of boxes further behind the trees. One more over the top spiel when Jolly brought empty boxes later. “Grinch, not Scrooge,” Mickey corrected with a heavy sigh, pulling a mini set of drawers towards himself from the shelf above his desk, a tool box of tweezers, pins, scissors and the like.

“I know, Mandy told me,” Jolly laughed at Mickey's deep confusion, “You're in her place, you don't think I know her? She told me her brother was steppin' in and that he was a self-proclaimed Grinch although I think you're really not that Grinchy. You're really fucking good with the kids, man.”

“Sure thing,” Mickey sassed back, deeply sarcastic because could this guy not chill his jolliness? He refused to take the compliment, even if it was really genuine. Why was this guy sticking around to talk when he normally never said anything beyond telling Mickey how many more gifts he was bringing that day?

“How _is_ Mandy by the way?” Jolly asked to which Mickey gave a so-so bob of his head while the lanky elf went about picking up white lametta that had come off his little sleigh. Those pants were cut real good on him, dear God.

Mickey sighed as he picked up a spool that had gotten tangled, directing his eye line away before he got caught. “She's a'ight considerin'. Funny she told you 'bout me and my Grinchy ways, which are, in fact, very real, asshole. She didn't tell me shit about you though, Jolly,” Mickey was fishing to see exactly what his traitorous sister had blurted out and hoped his deep concentration at trying to untangle yellow ducky ribbon was good enough to mask his curiosity. It wasn't like he wasn't deeply into what he was doing because _how_ had this spool gotten into such a mess? He kept everything in order and was stupidly meticulous about it. _Gary_. The fucker who covered this area on Mickey's day off had very little care when doing the job and couldn't really wrap anything for shit, never did nice curls or hand tied the bows but rather stuck false dollar store ones on with glue. Cheat. He pissed Mickey off, always left his station in a mess – well, a mess only Mickey would find because the sneaky fool cleaned everything up good, just stuffed all the messy paper and adornments into their drawers and baskets like a child hurriedly cleaning his room before mom came to inspect.

“Well,” Jolly grinned and pushed from the bench with a wink, “My name is Ian, _Plumkin_ , and I'm a literal ball of fuckin' sunshine.” Not only was this guy a sunny fucker but also a little shit with his smug smirks, though the sunshine image was shattered a little went he got lametta stuck on his fingers and shook them violently with a colourful curse.

“Seriously fuckin' sunny there,” Mickey pointed out as he bent forward over his desk and found a knot to unpick with his tweezers all _too_ interesting, trying to mask a stupid grin at Ian's ridiculous fight with the paper strings.

Ian was chuckling as he gathered his empty sleigh and made to leave and go back to his station when Mickey's brain caught up a bit. He glanced at Ian's long legs and thumbed his own lip before muttering quietly, “Uh, thanks for the roll, earlier, y'know? Didn't- I dropped mine and I flipped the fuck out 'cause of Sara bein' _such_ a bitch this mornin'.”

“Careful, you're being too Grinchy,” Ian said as he turned his head and Mickey scowled and narrowed his eyes at the bastard's cheeky grin. Ian seemed to be immune to Mickey's grump, for he carried on with a wave of his hand, jingling the bell of his hat as he yanked the sleigh to himself to push it through the door with his foot, “I always have an extra little one. My sister works at Beck's and gives me a tiny version of whatever I have for Mandy and rather than tell her Mandy is off work, 'sick', which will have her worryin' her bones into dust, I've been leavin' them in the staff cooler. Always gone by the end of the shift so... yeah. No worries, Plumkin, welcome to it,” Ian bobbed his head and Mickey found his face smoothing out from that touched feeling he had earlier, certain that he looked fond because this kid looked out for his sister like that, that they were real good friends, clearly, and that he automatically transferred it to Mickey without thought. “Adieu,” Ian waved before dragging his sleigh away to Let It Snow, singing along as he disappeared down the dimly lit hidden tunnels that connected each zone, Mickey barely able to grunt something back at the damn singing. Instead, he cursed out the knotted mess in his hands and wondered when his next smoke break was due. He was perfectly content to pick away until the song changed. Out rang a chorus of people _ahhing_ and Mickey's entire frame cringed.

_It's the most wonderful time of the year!_

“Fuckin-” Mickey threw the spool in the basket and thumped his head off the desk with a groan. One more round. One. More.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, more is coming... hope you can forgive me :D and I hope it's OK so far <3
> 
> come see me on Tumblr: @ youknowyoutried


End file.
